Neil bowed deeply, and when he looked up again, his pupils had returned to their original appearance, and the feeling of depression that had enveloped the office just now dissipated. The crescent moon is still hooked outside the tall floor-to-ceiling windows, as if everything is just a fleeting illusion in a trance.

However, the damp faces of the headmasters in the frame don't look like they can forget about this scene as an illusion. Seeing this, Neil smiled as if he had succeeded in his mischief, and exited the room before they could ask more questions.

It was his little revenge for spending the Hogwarts Rank Sages in a night of trepidation - so that perhaps next time they would learn this lesson and let themselves finish the random tragic stories they had created on the spot before talking about anything else.

As soon as he disappeared behind the door, the headmaster's room began to clamor like a frying pan.

"This is nonsense!" A middle-aged witch with tough features and a muscular body slammed the table in front of her, causing many of her colleagues who had no furniture available in the frame to show envious expressions, "You must not let this ...... Stuff moves freely in the academy! Do you understand how dangerous it can be for him to go mad? ”

"Why do you always take problems so badly, Susie?" The chubby old wizard on her right protested, "Whatever the cause, he's a member of Hogwarts now, do you treat your students like that?" ”

The lady, who looked more like a boxer than a wizard, raised her eyebrows when she heard this, raised her fist and slammed it on the table.

"Oh, is it? Yes, I think you're right, Morris, I'm not a qualified principal, and I've always been impatient with my students – because my predecessor actually agreed to let Squibs go for a donation! ”

Morris's fat face suddenly collapsed with blood, and his retort sounded unremarkable: "It's not about money, Susie, our starting point is to help them get rid of the deep-rooted discrimination in society, you see, if-"

"I don't care what the hell you're trying to do! Do you know how much trouble those 'students' have caused us? They can't participate in any practical classes, and they can't take exams, but they ask for graduation certificates through the family forces behind them...... It was the darkest time at Hogwarts, and our reputation had plummeted! And you know what's the best part? You died of a heart attack immediately after accepting the donation and accepting them, and you pushed all the problems on me to solve! ”

"Alas, alas! Let me catch my breath, Susie! Sweaty Morris craned his neck to look at her, he already regretted interfering in the subject, "I've said it a million times, it's not about money, those donations, I took them - I mean, I was going to give them all to ......"

"Well, calm down, Maurice, you too, Suzanne, now is not the time to discuss the old things, we have more pressing issues to focus on." Two rows away, a sharp-eyed wizard clapped his hands, interrupting their off-topic argument, "Leave your dispute to be resolved in a deserted corridor - Albus, when you proposed this 'backup plan', no one objected, because we all understood that Voldemort had to be stopped." But now you have to be honest with us, how much do you really know about that kid? ”

"Honestly? Truth be told, not much, Willy. Dumbledore spread his hands, his face was calm, but he also revealed just the right amount of confusion - only people who had not done anything wrong, or who were used to doing bad things, could show such an expression, "The elder in charge of dealing with me promised that they would send someone who was absolutely capable enough to do the job, and in turn, we hoped that we would be able to open up to some of his other flaws...... I'm sure you all understand what he means as much as I do by now. ”

"Do you think he can be trusted?"

"Why not?" Dumbledore asked rhetorically, "You can see that the importance they place on reputation and credibility is true, and people like this don't break their promises easily." ”

Willy Hebans nodded impatiently, he was known for his impatience and toughness during his tenure, especially in his attitude towards half-humans and their hybrids - it is difficult to say that this was a pure prejudice, given that it was the time of the Second War of the Giants: "I know, but Suzanne has a point, his very existence is enough to be a walking safety hazard, like the hunting ground warden you appointed......"

"I have complete trust in Rubeus Hagrid – including his personality and ability to do his job, if that's what you want to say." Dumbledore said in a deep voice,

Hebans cleared his throat. Albus Dumbledore was a very gentlemanly, even gentlemanly, who rarely took the initiative to interrupt others, and he sensed the other party's displeasure from this rare reaction, and his attitude softened peacefully.

"Of course, of course, as the current principal, you certainly have the right to decide this...... But don't forget, he's not on the same level of havoc he can do when he's out of control and the bad boys who throw big bombs in the hallways - remember to keep your collar tight, Dumbledore. ”

Dumbledore shook his head, then nodded, seemingly lost in thought. Seeing that he was no longer interested in continuing, the portraits gradually quieted down, and watched him spread out a piece of parchment and begin to write a letter addressed to the Director of the Department of Management and Control of Magical Creatures.

……

……

Dumbledore did what he said, and the next morning, an official letter from the Ministry of Magic arrived at Neil.

There was no such thing as a mailroom at Hogwarts, and Mr. Argus Filch, the school's only attendant, was busy enough to patrol and clean the corridors every day, and he had no time or inclination to do anything that would not help persecuting the students—unless the headmaster allowed him to open the letters and check them for prohibited items. In the same way, it is estimated that no student will be willing to go to his office every day to check if there is anything sent to him.

So every day at breakfast time, an aviation formation of hundreds of owls would enter the auditorium from the air window on time, deliver the parcels to the students, and then fly away, leaving only a feather and ...... No, sir, our owls are highly trained to never excrete in someone else's bowl of onion soup during their work.

"Wow, that's spectacular." Neil slices apple pies as he looks amusefully at the rapidly approaching army of owls overhead. Although this scene is not as majestic as the attack of the demon beasts, the reassuring sense of peace is also different, "This picture reminds me of Van Gogh's "Crows in the Rye" - it's strange, isn't it? The atmosphere created by that painting was obviously so lonely, completely different from the scene of chickens flying and dogs jumping here, but I couldn't help but connect the two...... Speaking of Van Gogh, you know, Mr. Kona, that Van Gogh's death in the Rye is said to be a lie......"

"Oh, please, Neil! You've told me the story of paper clips and $1,000 royalties twice along the way — and the second time you've just admitted that it was just a fabrication! At least let me be quiet for a while while I have breakfast. ”

Yawning Michael Corner looked at the plate of mashed potatoes in front of him with regret. There was a clumsy little owl that didn't stop when it landed, and just plunged into it. In contrast, Neil didn't even need to use his eyes to confirm it, and he was able to move the plate away with the slightest movement at a time, like an unpredictable prophet, avoiding the falling objects that were bouncing around, which he was very envious of.

Confirming that his mashed potatoes were hopeless, Michael sighed helplessly and looked around for some food that had not yet been poisoned by the owl. Neil glanced at him, picked up a plate of untouched sandwiches from his hand and handed it over.

"Please, Mr. Kona. If I'm not mistaken, today is the first day of class, and it's not okay to go back on such an important occasion without filling your stomach. Isn't there an old saying, it's better to be a dead ghost...... Wait, where did I hear that? ”

"Say no more, Neil. I think we're going to have to make a three-chapter covenant in the future, forbidding you to talk at length while I'm eating, sleeping, and doing my homework—is that owl looking for you? ”

As the two spoke, a gray owl landed on Neil's shoulder, raising its right leg to show him the envelope tied to it. Mielke didn't know how to distinguish an owl's expression, but he always felt that there was a bit of arrogance on the owl's face.

"Is this your old school, the original 'house number'?"

"First of all, it's a 'sect', not a 'house number'. I appreciate your efforts to learn about my home culture, but I hope you will work harder so that it doesn't cause similar embarrassments in the future. By the way, I've never seen a bird like this in the sect - and I have a deep doubt that these cage-fed creatures can handle such a long flight. Neil plucked the letter from the owl's feet, opened it and glanced at the sender, a flash of light in his eyes, and the change in expression from indifference to ecstasy almost startled Michael.

"Finally! Praise to the Headmaster, praise to the Minister of Magic......" he muttered something as he eagerly tore open the envelope and read it from beginning to end, then a second and a third time...... It wasn't until he knew every word that he put down the letter contentedly, leaned back in his chair and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Did anything good happen?" Michael asked curiously.

"Better than that, Mr. Kona." Neil shook the letter in his hand at him, "The business license I've been waiting for has finally come down!" Starting today, we can finally start business! Do you know how long I've been waiting for a day? Ah, now is not the time to grind, I need to hurry back to the common room and put the shed up......"

"What about the lesson!?"